


Gegenfeuer

by duesternis



Category: Dragon Ball, Dragon Ball Z
Genre: Anal Sex, Hand Job, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, PWP, Porn Without Plot, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-07-10 13:40:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6987313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/duesternis/pseuds/duesternis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vegeta leaves a party and goes to find Goku.<br/>Shenanigans ensue.</p><p>(I mean sex.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gegenfeuer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CuraAtlanticus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CuraAtlanticus/gifts).



> this was written for the birthday of the amazing Cura.
> 
> love you, hon

It was getting late and Vegeta was tired of mingling with Bulma‘s stupid friends and colleagues.  
The collar of his shirt was too tight around his throat and far too stiff. The jacket would rip were he to move too fast even once and the pants were atrocious in more than one way.  
The only thing that made the night somewhat worthwhile was the amount of alcohol and food.  
And maybe the blackblue silk Bulma had draped over her body. Her arms were toned, her legs powerful and the shoulders strong. She was quite beautiful for a human. A worthy woman to bear his children, but never a queen. Always only a consort.  
A drop of moisture on the fire of Vegeta‘s desire.  
Vegeta downed his umpteenth glass of champagne and got a new one. Shoved a canapeé into his hungry mouth and took the next wandering plate that passed him right out of the hands of the young male carrying it. He made a noise of protest and left as soon as Vegeta looked up at him with death in his eyes.  
Bulma slowly found her way over to him and leaned against the table next to him, bringing them to nearly the same height.  
„Gosh, my feet hurt!“  
„Then don‘t wear those stupid shoes, woman.“ Vegeta finished his glass and Bulma laughed, her teeth white behind her painted lips. She leaned over and pressed a kiss to Vegeta‘s champagne-wet lips. He licked the lipstick from hers.  
„I‘m leaving.“  
„Thanks for even coming by, I didn‘t think you would.“ Bulma smiled and pressed her breasts against Vegeta‘s arm. He rested a hand shortly on her waist and licked the rest of her lipstick away. She giggled, slightly drunk and Vegeta grinned.  
„Have fun, woman.“  
„Yeah, you too, Vegeta.“ She waved and leaned away again, eyes taking him in for a last time. „You really look handsome in a suit.“  
Vegeta snorted with all the arrogance he had been raised to portray and handed one of Bulma‘s friends his empty glass.  
Countless eyes followed his powerful steps out of the house.

Outside, a few steps away from the loud laughter and dumb talks of humans, Vegeta took flight and sped out of the city.  
Wondered for a half moment if he really looked handsome in the suit, or if that was just another one of those weird human perceptions of what was desirable.  
Power and strength and cunning were nothing to them if they could have compromise, warmth and talking.  
Talking of all things.  
Almost as bad as compromise, sometimes even worse.  
Vegeta looked down at the terrain he was racing over and had to laugh at himself under the pale light of far away suns.  
He adjusted his course a bit and tentatively reached out, looking for the one man on this planet that understood him at least partly. His only subordinate and the person he hated most.  
„Kakarot.“ Vegeta landed with a sneer, dress shoes not as soft and silent as his boots always were.  
„Vegeta!“ Genuine joy was written all over the dumb round face in front of Vegeta and the oaf rose from his seat in the hillside. „I thought Bulma was having a party!“  
„I had no idea you could think.“ Vegeta loosened his tie and ran a hand through his hair. He wasn‘t wearing his gloves and it was irritating.  
Kakarot stayed quiet, didn‘t whine, didn‘t complain about the soft jibe and Vegeta stopped tracking the panorama and looked at Kakarot again.  
Dark eyes, fathomless, were mapping his body. Slowly, calculating.  
A breath of silence fell and Vegeta coiled his core muscles, ready to make the first hit.  
„You look handsome in a suit.“ Kakarot cocked his big head to one side, lips open in a smile. His teeth were sharper than Bulma‘s.  
Vegeta stilled and tested the air in his lungs. It seemed to have thinned suddenly. A gust of wind slapped his jacket against his waist.  
„Really handsome.“ The dark eyes dipped into the shadows that lay under the black jacket, into the folds of the white shirt and behind it.  
This wasn‘t what he had come here for, but maybe it was what he needed. He felt tight and wound up. Needed to blow up some steam. Or whatever Bulma always said.  
„How do you dare to talk to your Prince, Kakarot!“ Vegeta stood to his full height and let his strong voice carry far. The wind surged angrily.  
They were in the middle of nowhere, the grass dancing under the wind. No one would hear them either way.  
Kakarot loomed over him with two steps and the pale suns couldn‘t lap away the shadows dripping over his face. There was nothing left of the stupid oaf they all called Son Goku.  
This was the Saiyan Warrior Vegeta was proud to call his subordinate.  
Who now slowly dropped to one knee and took Vegeta‘s ungloved hand. That was of itself forbidden.  
A shiver ran over Vegeta‘s back and he didn‘t know where it had come from. Righteous anger or the deep-rooted fear that had taken hold of him, when he had first learned of Kakarot‘s strength. It could also be desire.

„I apologize, my liege.“ Kakarot‘s lips gently covered Vegeta‘s knuckles without a sound and Vegeta kept very still this time. His muscles were tightened.  
„Think better before you talk next time.“ He drew his hand back and those dark eyes shot up again.  
„Yes.“ Amusement was hidden behind that single syllable and Vegeta felt the first trickle of true annoyance in his stomach. He didn‘t tell Kakarot to stand up, instead he kept looking down at the sleek-black hair.  
It was soft and coarse at the same time and Vegeta could smell the unique scent that always clung to it.  
Clouds and sweat and something Vegeta had never smelled before and he knew he would never smell it anywhere else but in the depth of Kakarot‘s hair.  
The dark eyes kept looking at him, a half-smile making them shine in the starlight reflecting off of Vegeta‘s dress shirt.  
Vegeta lifted his hand, dream-like and only half aware of what he was doing. His heart was beating sluggishly and adrenaline was waiting to spike, as it always did, when Kakarot was close.  
Ungloved fingers dragged through Kakarot‘s hair, pushed the windswept strands flat against the heavy head, twined them around his hand and tugged.  
Kakarot breathed softly and let his head be tugged back. A smile was leaning against his lips. It was the smile that only Vegeta knew.  
Even more secret than the darkness pooling in the black eyes looking up at the last Prince of the Saiyans.  
The other bare hand came up and forced the smile open. Vegeta dipped his thumb into Kakarot‘s mouth, hot and wet and dangerous, and pressed the jaw open easily.  
The smile still lingered.  
Vegeta tugged the head back a bit more and Kakarot put his other knee to the grass as well. His tongue moved against Vegeta‘s thumb. His hands were calm at his sides.  
He didn‘t need to be worried and Vegeta hated that.

„Kakarot.“

Vegeta wasn‘t sure if he had said the name out loud or if he had only thought it. Breathy and small, he hoped for his dignity that he hadn‘t spoken.  
But the darkness twinkled and he knew his tongue had failed him before his last Warrior again. Well, then he would own his mistakes.  
„Tell me again how I look.“ His thumb stopped pressing and took a seat in the left corner of Kakarot‘s mouth.  
The smile leaned next to it.  
„You look handsome, my Prince.“ The tongue darted out and Vegeta had to tighten his grip in the black hair to keep the head where he wanted it.  
A shiver of desire, unmistakable this time, took Vegeta‘s unprotected back.  
„Powerful and fierce. They dress you up, as if you were one of them, but you aren‘t. You never were one of them.“  
How did that oaf manage to speak so eloquently? How did he manage to convey more worship and loyalty in three sentences than Nappa had been able to in all his life?  
How did Vegeta crave this so? How and why?

 _Because you are a vain prince and a broken puppet and you need to be owned to feel powerful_ , whispered a cold voice in Vegeta‘s heart.  
He slammed it shut and tightened his hold further.  
He craved this, because it was what he deserved as Prince of all Saiyans.  
„And else?“  
„I desire you.“ Simple truth, honest and straightforward. Something any well-raised Saiyan would never use to address someone from the royal family, let alone the Prince.  
There were protocols, set phrases and tradition to tend to.  
But they had gone up in flames with Vegeta-sei and the Prince was glad.  
He had always hated the stiff phrases and cryptic sentences Nappa had used to talk to him. As if he couldn‘t digest the harsh truths that life dealt in.  
Raditz had been even worse.  
But Kakarot. Kakarot talked to Vegeta like he wanted to. An equal. A trusted Warrior.  
A Princeward, as true as they came.  
There hadn‘t been one in more than threehundred years.  
No Prince had trusted any of his Warriors enough to make one his Princeward.  
And Vegeta would never admit to having named Kakarot, a Warrior from the lowest caste, the first of them all.  
Not that the oaf would even understand what it meant.  
He slapped Kakarot across the cheek with an open palm. Insult and injury.  
„Watch your mouth.“ Vegeta grinned and watched the dark fire rise higher in Kakarot‘s eyes.  
„I can‘t.“  
„You do what I tell you to do.“ Didn‘t this idiot understand what it meant when someone said to watch your mouth?  
„I‘m watching you, my liege, I can‘t watch my mouth too.“

A blush raced to Vegeta‘s cheeks and he suddenly felt hot under his suit. Despite the wind teasing them both.  
He hated Kakarot and slapped him again. The other cheek this time. They both shone a lively red.  
Blood stained Kakarot‘s lips and Vegeta wanted to drink it. His eyes darted back to it every now and then, and he knew, that Kakarot knew.  
The oaf had an animal-sense that rivalled even those of honed Warriors of the highest caste.  
„Let me worship.“  
It went completely silent around them. Vegeta couldn‘t even hear the wind laughing into his ear. There was only the power in Kakarot‘s voice and the promise it held.  
His hand lost strength in the black hair and Kakarot took that as the condonation it was.  
He surged forward in one graceful display of power and pushed his Prince into the soft grass.

Vegeta kneed him in the chin and heard his jacket rip. Blood sprayed past Kakarot‘s lips and a few drops hit Vegeta‘s face.  
He licked them off where he could and traded blows with Kakarot for a moment.  
They rolled down the hill and Vegeta was sure he managed to seriously crack one of Kakarot‘s ribs, until they came to a halt and Kakarot held him down with an ease that had been born from practice and untouched stamina.  
He shouted insults into the face looming over him and felt reminded of light-filled nights he would rather forget. His core muscles coiled tight and Kakarot rolled them around a last time.  
Vegeta found himself seated in Kakarot‘s lap, who lay back and watched him out of keen, black eyes.  
Vegeta slapped his face a third time that night and decided not to do it again today, as Kakarot licked the blood from his own lips. Too dangerous.  
„You know, Vegeta, my Prince. I do enjoy looking up at you.“  
Vegeta felt his back straighten and his face heat up at the combination of dangerous loyalty and childish worship.  
„I do enjoy looking down at you, so why don‘t you kneel more often?“  
„I wouldn‘t want you to get too full of yourself.“  
Vegeta laughed despite himself and pulled his tie loose. The seam on the back of his jacket hadn‘t withstood the tumble down the hill. The black fabric found a new home in the grass.  
„You have no respect.“  
„Neither do you.“ Kakarot shrugged and the dark fire in his eyes toned down. The oaf was coming back and Vegeta hated the oaf.  
So he leaned back against Kakarot‘s planted legs and ground down on the growing erection Vegeta could feel through all the layers of fabric.  
„A Prince doesn‘t have to respect his vassals.“

Kakarot‘s breath hitched and the dark fire seemed to burn Vegeta where his eyes landed. „My sons learned different in school.“  
Vegeta scoffed and lazily moved his hips. „Human schools for human children.“  
Kakarot‘s large hands came away from behind his head and took a temporary home on Vegeta‘s spread thighs.  
He always felt smaller than he truly was, whenever he was with Kakarot.  
„Humans are smart.“  
„Weak.“  
„I don‘t want to fight.“  
„Weak.“ Vegeta ground down with more force than necessary and was payed with a growl that made his skin pull tight.  
Kakarot wanted to scare him with it and would never learn what that particular pitch truly meant. Vegeta wouldn‘t teach him either.  
There would be no end to Kakarot‘s power would he learn of the different voices every Saiyan could use, and to what ends they could use them. One of the many things that made them perfect warriors.  
The most important one being the monkey blood.  
Vegeta wished for his tail in mourning. He wanted to flick it under Kakarot‘s nose and watch him inhale the scent deeply, eyes clouded by desire.  
But that would never happen.  
For a moment there was only the sound of fabric dragging on fabric and soft breathing.

Then Kakarot‘s hands deftly started to open the buttons on Vegeta‘s shirt.  
He slapped them away after two buttons and growled, deep and threatening.  
Kakarot laughed and started again. One button this time and another growl.  
„Oh, come on. I‘m not doing this dressed, Vegeta!“ The oaf‘s voice, not the Warrior Vegeta had come to see.  
He stood up and closed his buttons again. Started to take flight and was pulled down by a single hand around his ankle.  
One tug.  
Vegeta found himself in the grass again, strong arms around his middle.  
This time Kakarot wasn‘t looming, he was engulfing. He lay half on top of Vegeta and stared him right in the eyes.  
„Stay.“ Not a request, not a plea. An order.  
Vegeta shivered and heartily bit into the strong shoulder obstructing the pale suns from seeing his hot cheeks. He drew blood and scratched the upper arms at the same time.  
Found a soft belly with his knee and kicked the thick thighs.  
„Stay.“ The voice was still strong and clear and Vegeta could smell the fire burning again. Stronger than before and ready to take.  
He still fought the powerful hold. Only in part to truly get away.  
Kakarot twisted them slightly on the grass and managed to pin Vegeta‘s legs completely. His arms were held down by the stronghold and so he only had his teeth left and his hard skull.  
Both were little help against the thick skull of an idiot.  
„Let me go, you respectless bastard, or I‘ll kill your whole family!“  
Kakarot laughed gently next to Vegeta‘s ear and the hot breath made him fight less hard.  
„You won‘t. You need the Warriors.“ Kakarot had no idea how right he was with that and Vegeta wouldn‘t tell him. He just scoffed and bit another bloody mark into the sun-browned skin. It all looked pale under the distant light. Even the blood.  
„I need nothing but power, Kakarot.“  
A chuckle. „I‘m yours to command.“ Childish arrogance danced around them.  
Kakarot had no idea what that promise did to Vegeta‘s stomach or his heart. Vegeta would keep that a secret too.  
„Then let me go.“  
Kakarot noticed the trap he had built for himself, laughed and let go. But he still caged Vegeta with his body.

No unpleasant reminder this time. Just that smell everywhere around Vegeta and it made him sweat under the white cotton. The pants were too tight, too stiff.  
His ungloved hands came up again and this time they opened the buttons themselves. Kakarot watched closely, eyes fathomless again.  
Vegeta pulled the shirt off without leaving the cage of Kakarot‘s arms and legs, always looking at the face of his Princeward.  
Kakarot‘s eyes were glued to the planes of pale skin the white shirt had hidden from view, and the way Vegeta‘s muscles shifted underneath.  
Vegeta grinned a royal grin.  
Then he took the broad straps of Kakarot‘s hideous gi and pushed them over the wide shoulders. When he moved to take the blue shirt underneath off, Kakarot growled and Vegeta growled back.  
Ripped the fabric after a second fruitless try and tossed the shreds to the side. Laughed at Kakarot‘s blinking face and shoved the gi over his hips, not bothering with the belt.  
A hiss showed how rough the fabric tore over skin.  
Vegeta laughed again and kicked his shoes off. Got rid of his pants before Kakarot ripped them and dragged a bare finger over one of the marks he had bitten into the round of Kakarot‘s shoulder.

„Get naked, idiot.“

Vegeta knew that it was unfair to use the inflection Kakarot couldn‘t disobey, but wasn‘t cunning sexy?  
Not as sexy as watching Kakarot stand in the light of distant suns, eyes drilling holes in Vegeta‘s, as the hideous orange gi fell away to reveal the true beauty of a Princeward.  
Perfect muscles, blank and strong, no scars, no scratches but the ones the Prince wanted to see on the body that belonged to him.  
Vegeta watched for quite some time. Forearms holding his torso up, with grassblades tickling his back in the wind.  
Watched as Kakarot‘s cock rose to its full height under the scrutiny. Heavy and red with blood the tip pulsed with every heartbeat.  
Watched as the skin trembled over the taut stomach under the breath of wind.  
He watched until he was thirsty.  
Vegeta sat up fully and smoothed his windswept hair back into its form.  
Then he raised his arms and beckoned his Warrior to join with him. Teeth bared and head tilted to one side.  
Kakarot fell to his knees for the second time that night and pushed Vegeta‘s thighs open. Hooked his gentle thumbs under the waistband of Vegeta‘s tight shorts and carefully rolled them over the muscled thighs and calves. Put the shorts aside and crawled back to his Prince.

„Vegeta.“  
Vegeta stayed silent and fisted a hand in the back of Kakarot‘s hair. Dragged him down and finally licked the blood from his lips. Drank it up and drew more, just to lick it away again. He even lapped the blood up that stuck to the inside of one nostril, hungry for more of the iron taste.  
Kakarot tipped them back into the grass with neverending care, until Vegeta lay flat on the soft grass, cool against the sweat already pooling in the small of his back. Arms and legs were cageing Vegeta in again and he pulled on the black hair again.  
His other hand clawed at the strong back keeping the distant suns away and blind to Vegeta‘s shame. His legs wrapped tightly around Kakarot‘s waist and he pulled the heavy, tall Warrior flush on top of himself.  
Vegeta‘s lungs struggled to get enough air into his body. They would adjust.  
Kakarot eagerly followed every little cue Vegeta gave. It would take a moment until inititative would change hands.  
Still.  
Vegeta shivered under the sure touch of those hands and hated himself for it. Hated Kakarot for it. And bit the tongue that gently teased the inside of his lips.  
Drank the grunt of pain along with the blood and let Kakarot fight to get free again. A strong hand grabbed his jaw, forced his mouth open and the bloodied tongue claimed Vegeta, unprotected as he was now.  
Another shiver of desire arched his back under Kakarot‘s weight.

The heavy drag of his erection rubbed against Vegeta‘s own and Vegeta keened soundlessly into the panting mouth above him.  
His bare hands held on to the back of Kakarot‘s neck and Kakarot licked his way down Vegeta‘s body. Every dip and delve of shaking muscle that Kakarot came across was worshipped and mapped.  
Vegeta felt himself unravel under the expert attention, born from keen instinct and an endless desire to please and help. He hated Kakarot for it and himself even more.  
A Prince should never get so weak under the hands of a vassal.  
Vegeta‘s thighs were lifted and spread, draped over Kakarot‘s shoulders and Vegeta sighed. He knew what came next and coiled tight in anticipation. He was almost folded in half.  
The pale suns high up looked at them with disinterest and soft disdain. Vegeta hated them and sneered at them.  
Kakarot dragged a gentle thumb, wet and slick from his own worship, over Vegeta‘s opening and laughed against the twitching flesh. Vegeta twisted, tried to hide and was held down with one huge palm on his waist.  
„Hush.“ Kakarot‘s voice was a deep rumble, more growl than word and Vegeta fought to not go completely limp under the power it held.  
Kakarot licked a broad, wet stripe over the hole and Vegeta threw his head back in the grass, panting through clenched teeth.  
The tongue came back, lingered, dipped inside and then teased Vegeta‘s balls playfully, before going back to the hole. Kakarot hummed pleased whenever Vegeta shivered and the hums brought another shiver up the tight spine.

It was a spiral of shame and Vegeta tumbled down with open eyes.  
Sometimes a rough palm rubbed shortly over his pulsing erection, or a finger followed the outline of his tail‘s root, draining strength with pleasure whenever that happened.  
But most of the time the huge fingers just dug gouges into Vegeta‘s thighs, holding him still.  
Vegeta slipped in and out of a haze of pleasure, unaware of anything but the touches of another body against his.  
A finger pushed deep into his body, after what seemed like forever, and Vegeta lifted his hips until his weight was supported solely by his shoulders and the hand in the small of his back.  
He wanted more and wasn‘t sure if he breathed the order aloud or only thought it. He couldn‘t even focus his eyes.  
„Vegeta. My Prince.“  
The teasing finger didn‘t move and Vegeta growled, impatient. Fought the haze with little success and looked at Kakarot with anger, fuelled by desire.  
„My Prince.“  
„What?“ It was a slur, tongue heavy with unstilled fire. Vegeta blinked and finally managed to really look at Kakarot. The black eyes were shiny with that dark fire Vegeta craved.  
Sometimes fire was the only thing left to fight fire with.  
„I desire you and I will still my desire, my thirst.“  
Vegeta‘s eyes rolled back into his head and he bared his throat, unaware of what exactly he was doing. He just wanted Kakarot to go on and stop talking.  
Damn humans.  
His hands found Kakarot‘s shoulders again and Vegeta pulled, growled and tugged, but the finger stayed still and it wasn‘t enough.  
„Get the fuck on with it!“ Vegeta screamed at the pale suns, the oaf above him and slammed their foreheads against each other. His legs were still draped over Kakarot‘s shoulders.  
Kakarot laughed and pulled his finger out. „Yes, my liege.“ The dark fire burned into Vegeta and he stared at his Princeward with open eyes and a slack mouth.  
His arms lost their strength and Kakarot let Vegeta slide into the grass, his legs hanging limply in the crooks of Kakarot‘s arms.

Kakarot had never looked so mighty and dangerous before. A crown of pale suns in his tousled hair and a smile stretching his bloodied lips as he took his own cock in hand and pulled his Prince open with the other hand, sliding into him with practised ease.  
Vegeta felt himself thin and stretch out under the pressure and held back a moan.  
„Oh, Vegeta.“ And there was the oaf, head hanging in pleasure, lips open and eyes closed. The dangerous smile had become happy and dumb in seconds.  
Vegeta grunted, not satisfied, not yet, not like this and shifted, moved his hips and was promptly held down with two hands this time.  
„Just...“  
„Kakarot.“ It was a warning and Kakarot only laughed.  
„Just a moment.“ The dark eyes opened and they were fathomless in the oaf‘s face. Vegeta shivered and hated himself.  
„Kakarot.“  
The Warrior blinked over the features and the oaf stepped back to let desire take hold again.  
The time for talking was over and Vegeta wrapped his legs around Kakarot‘s waist with new fervor.  
Huge palms pressed his shoulders into the soft, cool grass and Kakarot started to pound into his Prince with long, hard strokes.  
Vegeta lifted his hips to take every single one.

The obscene sounds of sweat-slick skin moving over sweat-slick skin, blood and pre-come mixing in the smears on Vegeta‘s belly, were the only sounds in the grassy dip between hills and Kakarot panted into the heated air between them.  
Vegeta‘s teeth were clenched so tightly that his jaw creaked.  
Kakarot shifted and took hold of Vegeta‘s thighs. The angle changed and Vegeta had to keen again.  
Kakarot laughed and Vegeta dug his short nails into the soft skin at the side of Kakarot‘s neck. Growled and met Kakarot‘s next thrusts with some of his own.  
Kakarot growled breathlessly and closed his eyes in pleasure.  
There was again only the smell of sex and the sounds of it between them.  
Then Kakarot pulled Vegeta‘s thighs apart and shifted his Prince neatly into his lap, so that Vegeta was resting on Kakarot‘s thighs. He lay there for a moment, draped half in Kakarot‘s lap and half in the lush grass like something out of a painting. Kakarot kneeled in the wind, hands on Vegeta‘s hips and cock buried deep in him.  
Vegeta pushed himself half-way up on his elbows and had to stop midway.  
A hoarse cry tore free from Vegeta‘s throat as Kakarot pounded into him anew and he hated Kakarot for it at the same time as his body screamed for more, faster, harder, _Kakarot_.

Vegeta was nearly sure he had screamed that aloud, as Kakarot picked his pace up and grunted with every powerful thrust. Droplets of sweat fell from Kakarot‘s forehead and mingled with blood and pre-come on Vegeta‘s stomach.  
Vegeta bared his teeth and the pale suns paled further as his body convulsed and shook under the power of his orgasm.  
Kakarot still pounded into him and Vegeta let him spill his own deep into the body of his Prince.  
All strength seemed to leave his Princeward and he fell back into the grass, legs awkwardly folded under his own weight. Vegeta shifted them around and sat up in the lap he had sat in before this night. Hands flat on Kakarot‘s heaving chest, hair sweaty in his eyes.  
His cock and the one deep inside him were still hard, their desire only just met, not yet sated.

Their eyes met for a moment and the wind quieted down for the first time this night.  
The pale suns dragged clouds over their eyes and the Prince and his ward were alone on the world.  
Kakarot shifted and got his legs out from underneath himself.  
„Vegeta.“  
„Kakarot.“  
Vegeta tilted his head and Kakarot lifted his big, dry palm to the left cheek. Cupped it like a precious thing and Vegeta wrapped his slender fingers around the strong wrist.  
He said something in the tongue his mother had whispered into his ears when he had still been a cub.  
„What did you say?“ Kakarot tilted his head in the opposite direction and his dark eyes gleamed with soft amusement. Vegeta wanted to snap a picture and sighed.  
„Nothing.“ He grinned and Kakarot‘s brows minutely shifted. The grasp of his palm tightened and Vegeta in turn held on to the wrist with more power.  
For a moment they tethered on the edge of a childish brawl.  
A bird tweeted nearby and Kakarot‘s palm loosened again.

Vegeta felt a drop of sweat roll down the line of his spine and shivered as it passed the scar where his tail should root.  
Kakarot took the shiver as an invitation and rolled his hips torturously slow. His feet were planted in the grass again and gave him unfair leverage.  
Heat rose from Vegeta‘s core and he felt his cheeks burn under the cool balm of night.  
The dark fire in Kakarot‘s eyes drank the flames licking over Vegeta‘s skin and a blaze wrapped them both up.  
Kakarot rolled his hips again and Vegeta‘s head fell back. His throat was a pale line of sweaty skin, the dim light of covered stars making his skin almost translucent. The pulse in its side beat frantically, but with a powerful rhythm.  
Strong hands roamed over the pale curve, over the temples and dipped into the thick hair. Coarse fingers, calloused from fights and work, tugged on the silky strands, tangled them with gentle determination.  
There was nothing of the manic need of their first joining left.  
This was to be savoured and Kakarot savoured every soft, nearly inaudible moan, that he could tease out of the stretched throat.  
He knew the body perched on his own better than that of his wife, and he used his knowledge as best as he could.  
Dragged his hands over the strong curve of Vegeta‘s back, into the small of it, following the dip of the muscles, the bend of the spine, to the root of his tail. He followed the rim of the scar with one finger.

Vegeta shivered, his thighs kept open by the width of Kakarot‘s waist. Kakarot looked at Vegeta‘s dripping erection and timed his next thrust perfectly. A loud exhale, nearly a moan at the end, lifted from Vegeta‘s lips and the back in Kakarot‘s hands quivered exquisitely.  
Kakarot dragged a thumb over the tail‘s scar and Vegeta‘s hips stuttered in their slow rhythm. His half-closed eyes, black with desire, rolled back into his head and Kakarot chuckled softly.  
The tail hadn‘t been that sensitive, but the scar it had left always managed to turn Vegeta into a mess.  
„You look beautiful like this.“ Kakarot moaned into the silence between them, words nearly swallowed by a throaty groan.  
Vegeta‘s eyes blazed with anger and he tightened every single muscle in his body until Kakarot‘s eyes teared up in pain. Vegeta leaned over Kakarot‘s chest, eyes slits and growled. His fingernails tore the skin over Kakarot‘s chest and his hips were still working, the grip of his ass so painful and at the same time so perfectly tight, that Kakarot‘s cock, buried to the hilt, pulsed.  
„God, Vegeta, shit! You‘re killing me!“  
„Good.“ Vegeta‘s voice was rough. Dry wood on the fire burning inside Kakarot.  
He blinked the tears away and licked his lips. Tasted blood and sweat and grinned.  
Slammed, with as much power as he could muster up, into Vegeta and held him down at the same time. Making him take the force of it.  
Hands bruising the pale skin of his upper arms and the unkind pistoning of Kakarot‘s hips made Vegeta falter in his tight grip on Kakarot‘s cock and his mouth went slack.  
Unsteady hands found a handle on Kakarot‘s shoulders and Vegeta held on for the ride his Princeward gave him under the soft light of distant, long-dead suns.  
Anger, already half-forgotten, burned up in the blaze of their desire.  
Kakarot‘s eyes never once wavered, they kept Vegeta‘s pinned with their burning gaze.  
Slowly and expertly Kakarot adjusted the angle of his cock, until triumph darted over his face.  
Vegeta‘s breath hitched as Kakarot‘s cock dragged over his prostate again and again, every thrust another nail in Vegeta‘s coffin.

His cheeks and chest were burning red, sweat oozing from every pore and his hands were clamped so tightly around Kakarot‘s shoulders that they started to tremble. Vegeta wasn‘t sure if the moisture clinging to his eyelashes was sweat or tears and the next thrust wiped even that thought from his mind.  
He was seconds away from coming and he wasn‘t sure Kakarot would let him. His mouth was slack, spit dribbling over his lower lip along with a constant stream of moans, groans and breathy sighs.  
Kakarot drank them all up with a greedy smile, eyes still open and keeping Vegeta trapped with them.  
Two calculated thrusts kept Vegeta tethering on the edge, balls pulling tight, stomach clenching and unclenching, fingernails drawing blood on Kakarot‘s shoulders and breath sticking to his windpipe.  
„My Prince.“  
Kakarot‘s voice rolled over Vegeta like a wave and a minute shifting of the cock in his body pushed him into a free fall.  
Vegeta‘s head fell back again, hair spilling over his arched back and his body was a bow-string, singing under the touch of Kakarot‘s hand in the small of his back.  
The rush of his orgasm was nearly as satisfying as the memory of moonlight making the monkey blood in his veins run wild, his body shifting and accomodating the true power buried in his small form.

The strong arms catching him, as the high subsided were new and Vegeta moaned in surprise, a small puff of air against Kakarot‘s hot, wet chest.  
With a slick sound the thick cock slipped out of Vegeta‘s body. A dribble of white followed and Vegeta shivered. The fire in him was sheltered for now, only warm embers that kept the bite of the wind at bay.  
Kakarot‘s chest was heaving under Vegeta‘s body and the warm arms around him were shaking softly with exertion.  
A breathy laugh ghosted over Vegeta‘s wet temple.  
A rough tongue lapped salt and iron from Kakarot‘s broad chest.  
Vegeta lifted his head up from his pillow, frushed a bare hand through his ruffled hair and Kakarot dragged him higher on his body.  
Open eyes met under the dark sky, stars already retiring one after the other. Kakarot gently fitted a hand to Vegeta‘s jaw and tilted his head to the side. Moved in and claimed the spit-slick lips in a tender kiss.  
A bone-shaking tremble raked Vegeta‘s body and he surrendered to the incomparable warmth rising high in his chest.  
His arms came around Kakarot‘s broad neck and they sat up together in the soft grass.  
Their lips moved over and along each other, tongues touching and parting every now and then. Their breath mingled and their hands gently and carefully touched where they had dragged and grabbed and pulled before.  
Vegeta climbed into Kakarot‘s lap again and wrapped his whole body around the muscled torso.  
Kakarot folded his legs and gently tugged Vegeta flush against his chest.  
Time lost all meaning as they tenderly explored each other, like they had never done before.

Vegeta got to know, that Kakarot had a sensitive spot right at the top of his spine, where the round of his skull began and his hair was short and raspy to the touch.  
Kakarot got to know, that Vegeta really liked it when he pressed a kiss to the junction of his jaw, mouth open, tongue wet and hummed against the thin skin there.  
Vegeta learned, that Kakarot enjoyed the musky smell of sweat and sex in Vegeta‘s armpits.  
Kakarot learned, that Vegeta would, if possible, bury his face in Kakarot‘s hair and inhale deeply.

Soft touches and the occasional gentle bite slowly brought them both back to hardness, cocks aching and leaking.  
Kakarot took them both into his big, warm hand and started stripping them down with quick, rough strokes.  
Vegeta held on to the steady shoulders and leaned his cheek against the tumble of black hair in front of him. Kakarot gently nibbled at one of Vegeta‘s nipples and licked sweat from the chest before his face.  
Their hips jerked out of sync, making their cocks drag against each other and Kakarot‘s hand in a maddening way. Not a rhythm that made any sense, but still ravishingly satisfying.  
With a careful, quick twist of his powerful wrist Kakarot brought himself off. The hot cum spilling over his hand and Vegeta‘s cock made Vegeta shiver in Kakarot‘s arms and with a half-swallowed groan he came aswell.  
Their foreheads connected with a soft sound and they shared air with closed eyes for a moment.  
The sky was brightening in the east and the last stars slowly left their seats in the sky, making room for their brother hanging closer to earth and rising from his bed with leisure.

Vegeta smiled a crooked smile and dragged his bare hands through Kakarot‘s hair before he stood.  
Kakarot took Vegeta‘s bare hand in his own and kissed the knuckles. He was still sitting in the grass, legs folded and chest covered in bloody scratches, sweat and come. „Obscene“, was all Vegeta thought and he had to smile again.  
Kakarot smiled back at him and kissed the knuckles again.  
„My liege.“  
„Kakarot.“ Vegeta stroked a finger over Kakarot‘s cheek and let him kiss his knuckles a third time. Then he stepped back and pulled his shorts and pants back on.  
Kakarot stood almost soundlessly and stretched, before he draped the white shirt over his Prince‘s shoulders and used the move to hug Vegeta a last time for tonight. He pressed his face into the curve of Vegeta‘s shoulder, kissed the side of his neck and let go.  
Vegeta turned around and put a hand on the back of Kakarot‘s neck. Pulled him down until a hair‘s breadth kept their faces apart.

„Who‘s your Prince?“  
„You are, Vegeta. Who else could ever?“

And with a last drop of sweat falling from Kakarot‘s forehead on Vegeta‘s lips the fire of his desire was quenched.

For now.


End file.
